Riddled And Empty Handed

The enthusiastic logastellus, empty handed yet so scripturient; Try to write it feels incoherent, without words there is no audience; Plagued with a poor vocabulary, madness fills an overactive mind; First line leaves that soul unsatisfied, not able to capture a writer’s quiddity; You can sit warm yourself by the fire believing the Muse comes on command; When will raw emotion understand it takes tools to pen what you desire; Go out communicate in person you’ll pick up a new line every time; No longer with a struggle to rhyme, No longer riddled with guiltroversion.